


backdoor

by bukkunmoonsin (bukkunkun)



Series: pavlovian [2]
Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018), Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cheating, Contracts, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Doggy Style, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Law School, Lawyers, M/M, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 20:11:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16394312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunmoonsin
Summary: Backdoors. Backdoors needed keys.“I love you.”Keys, keys—the key to everything was lying, and Sergio was sure by now he’d mastered the art of it.“I love you too.”





	backdoor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ziraulo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziraulo/gifts).



> > things i should be writing:  
>  \- literally anything for the halloween oktoberfest  
>    
>  what i am not writing:  
>  \- literally anything for the halloween oktoberfest  
>    
>  what i am up to writing:  
>  \- quezmena
>> 
>> — spookkun VENOM LOVING HOURS (@trickscd) [20 October 2018](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/1053643843659132928?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw)
> 
> it's my beta @AngInangReyna's birthday the other day, so I wrote this for her because we're always horny lmao
> 
> i'm sick and i can't think of anything funny to say here

This was cheating.

By all definitions of the word, Sergio was most definitely cheating.

“You can’t just _exclude_ parts of the testimony!” He snapped, as Manuel smirked at him. “Quezon, this is _cheating—_ ”

“I prefer to call this _creative liberty._ ” He drawled, and quickly leaned in to kiss him, catching him off guard long enough to slide his tongue between his gasping lips.

Sergio stiffened up, but quickly melted against Manuel, wrapping his arms around the back of his neck as they kissed deeply, and oh, _definitely—_

Definitely, Sergio was cheating. And not just on their current moot court hearing.

“Nonong, you absolute motherfucker,” He breathed against Manuel’s lips, and the other man grinned, that devil’s little smile pressed against his skin. “Stop kissing me.”

“Mm, only if you let go first.”

Hazily, Sergio remembered the contract he and Manuel drafted together.

_Mister Quezon is allowed to touch Mister Osmeña however way he wished, with the provision that there are no outside eyes looking in._

“Sometimes I think that contract benefits you more than it does me.”

“Hmph, you just like being touched.”

Manuel snaked his hand down Sergio’s side, earning him a shiver as he drummed his fingers over a sensitive spot on the man’s ribs. Sergio flinched, as Manuel leaned in to lick the shell of his ear.

“Section 13. Mister Osmeña may edge Mister Quezon for however long he likes.”

“You must think you’re hilarious.” Sergio deadpanned, but he lifted his knee to rub it against Manuel’s crotch, earning him a pleased hiss. Unwittingly a grin spread across his face as he crowded Manuel back into the wall, pinning him there with a low, dark laugh. “Well, _Golden Boy?_ You can never seem to come up with anything wise-ass the moment your dick gets involved.”

“Like I said,” Manuel managed between grit teeth, “Weakness.”

Sergio jumped when Manuel’s hand cupped over his ass, squeezing _hard_ , and he let out a squeak, collapsing against Manuel as the other man kneaded at his ass roughly.

“N-Nonong, that’s—that’s—”

“Now, now. All’s fair in love and war.”

At that Sergio rolled his eyes. “Love, he says.” He pulled away from Manuel with a scoff, and Manuel burst out laughing, shaking his head as Sergio fixed his collar and tie. “This is just our arrangement.”

“I know, I know.” Manuel straightened up, and popped open the buttons of his polo. Sergio looked over at him with a raised eyebrow—but immediately choked in alarm when he saw the purpling mark he made on him just that early morning before their classes.

(They’d made out in Manuel’s car, where Sergio managed to get the Golden Boy’s silk shirt off long enough to leave a mark at the hollow of his throat, right underneath the tendon he nibbled on while Manuel jerked him off through his clothes.

“Section 21,” Sergio panted into Manuel’s skin when he let out a half-hearted protest at Sergio’s refusal to let him return the favour of marking his skin. “Mister Osmeña may mark Mister Quezon however he wants, and Mister Quezon is expressly forbidden to do so.”)

Any marks on Sergio, after all, spelled disaster, particularly with the _other_ Manuel, who was currently _outside,_ ready to watch their moot court hearing alongside other students in the lower batch.

“Like what you see?” Manuel winked at him, and Sergio turned his face away from him, pink. “You know, _you_ drafted that part of the—”

“I know.” Sergio cut him off. “But do you really have to show that off?”

“Not like anyone will know.” Manuel snickered, “You’re completely unmarked, while I’ve got a little hickey at my throat. No one’s gonna suspect a thing, not even Roxie.”

Sergio rolled his eyes. “What about your father.” He deadpanned, and Manuel patted his shoulder heavily, before reaching down to pat his ass, too, for good measure. Sergio let out a squeak of alarm there, and Manuel strode past him, snickering.

“He’s used to it by now.” He replied simply. “So, we’re taking that part of the testimony out, okay? Might help us in the long run.”

Sergio’s brow furrowed, and he frowned deeply.

“This is cheating.”

“We’re simply unlocking backdoors to escape through.” Manuel winked at him over his shoulder, and Sergio refused to acknowledge the odd little leap his heart made.

Damn, the Golden Boy was handsome, he really had to admit.

“Back… doors.”

“Sorry,” Manuel laughed. “My kuya’s been playing this game about hacking stuff and accessing the Deep Web—uh, _Welcome to the Game_ or something, and I’d been watching his stream the other day.”

Sergio blinked at him. Now that he thought about it—there was little he knew about Manuel’s brothers—Gregorio and Julian. He didn’t even realise that Manuel would be the type to be interested in what his brothers were up to.

Something strange sat in his heart, clogging his throat and choking him up slightly.

He wondered what kind of person Manuel was—was he a family man? Did he treasure his family dearly? It seemed that way, hearing about how Manuel watched his brother’s gaming streams, but that was just one-off detail that Manuel dropped out of nowhere.

Sergio hadn’t even asked him for anything more on his family life, and—

Sergio shook his head. Why _should_ he? It wasn’t like they were dating, or anything.

“Fine.” He huffed. “But if we get into trouble for this—”

“We won’t.” Manuel’s voice was oddly soft as Sergio stood beside him in front of the double-door leading to the moot court, and Sergio looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Manuel didn’t meet his gaze.

“How could you be so…” Arrogant? Self-absorbed? High-and-mighty? “Confident?”

Manuel finally looked at him, and there it was—that twinkle in his eye that stole Sergio’s breath every time he met it. There it was, the spark that started this fireburst of a tango they danced together behind closed doors, unmarked skin and muffled moans and breathy gasps. The heated, _inspiring_ twinkle that started all this—that blasted, _enthralling_ beauty and strength Manuel Quezon carried around himself.

The shimmer of a golden heart inside the Golden Boy.

“I’ve got you, haven’t I?” He said, “There is not a single bastard out there I would count on having my back more than you.”

He offered Sergio his hand, an ironic echo of a handshake with the devil, and gave him a surprisingly honest grin.

“Run with me.” He said, and Sergio knew—just _knew—_ he wouldn’t be able to say no.

“Always.” He replied, and took Manuel’s hand to shake it.

* * *

“The court finds the defendant not guilty.”

Sergio stared at Attorney Mabini dumbly as he pounded the gavel lightly on the stand, and smiled at him lightly, that subtle, sublime pride of the Sublime Paralytic aimed right at him— _at him!—_ with all the approval of a proud father.

“Well done, Mister Osmeña, Mister Quezon, you have just won your case.” He said, though he was only looking at Sergio. He’d always done that since the start of the moot court hearing, clearly upset about the hickey on his son’s neck out in the open like that, but it did have some effect on their opponents, Sergio realised.

At least one of them was distracted enough to start making mistakes. The other was easily swayed by the muttering and murmuring of the swooning ladies in their audience.

“Told you we’d do it.” Manuel winked at him, and Sergio gaped at him when he was elbowed lightly by the Golden Boy.

They’d only barely managed to win—the testimony they omitted truly saved their lives in that case—the prosecution couldn’t find Sergio and Manuel’s half of proof that would have contradicted a key testimony that served a narrative that Manuel managed to unwind on the fly.

It was amazing to see Manuel work—and seriously, fully concentrated on a court case and not openly flirting with Sergio as they exchanged heated words in a debate that nowadays ended with them mostly naked, and a condom used.

Not that Sergio was complaining—the sex was incredibly satisfying. Manuel’s experience with previous, more adventurous lovers really paid off with how _amazing_ it felt every time they had sex—heated, horny and angry, mostly—but it did leave no small amount of guilt in Sergio when he thought of his other Manuel.

The one Manuel Quezon had taken to calling Roxie.

“Serging!”

Speaking of the devil, he thought, whirling around to see his boyfriend up on his feet, waving at him delightedly as the crowd began to either disperse, or make their way down to the front to gather around the Golden Boy or Mabini. Used to the inattention, Sergio easily made his way around the crowd as he picked up his and Manuel’s files before meeting his boyfriend halfway up the stairs out of the moot court.

“Serging, that was amazing.” Manuel Roxas’s eyes had a twinkle in them too, one of amazement and utmost adoration. Wholehearted devotion and love, and _oh,_ it felt _terrible_ to be betraying trust as pure as this.

“Thanks.” Sergio laughed softly, dissolving into soft giggles when Manuel took some of his books from him, “What’s this?”

“C’mon, let me carry your stuff,” He insisted, before darting forward to give Sergio a kiss on the cheek. “Mister big winner.”

“Oh, you.” Sergio chuckled, and kissed his temple, earning him small peals of laughter as the both of them began to stride out of the court. “Quezon did a lot of the legwork.”

And tongue-work. Both on the court and behind it, with that devilish, _devilish_ thing in his mouth, in his ear, teasing the head of his co—

Sergio shook his head, but Manuel didn’t seem to notice.

“Give yourself some more credit.” The younger man chuckled, “To be honest, I thought you did more of the talking down there earlier.”

“You’re just being biased.” Sergio rolled his eyes, and Manuel laughed.

“I may be.” He said, and kissed him gently, the two of them slowing to a stop in a small crevice not too far from the moot court as he pressed their foreheads together. “But I’m at least biased to someone way more amazing than Manuel Quezon is.”

“You flatter me too much.” Sergio huffed, and kissed his nose. Manuel laughed at that, pulling away, and much to Sergio’s surprise, his cheeks were pink.

“H-hey, um… I know it’s been a while since we’re both busy all the time, but…” He scratched his cheek with his free hand, and Sergio blinked at him. “Your midterm hearing just finished, and you won… after lunch, will you let me reward you?”

Realisation clicked in Sergio’s brain uncomfortably quickly, and his contract rang through his head, snarled past Manuel Quezon’s smarmy smirking lips.

_Section 1. Mister Osmeña’s boyfriend, Manuel Roxas, must never learn anything about this. Violation of this section will result in immediate termination of the contract, and the subsequent Arrangement._

Sergio never had the need to sleep with his boyfriend after meeting the Golden Boy, after the Arrangement. All the times he cited he was busy at group studies were spent playing Strip-Study with Manuel in his apartment before it devolved into arguments, and then angry, but oh so _satisfying_ sex.

“I…”

The backdoor, he thought, and it swung open with a loud, piercing _creak_ in the back of his mind.

 _Find a way out,_ Manuel Quezon’s voice said. _I know you can do it, Serging._

“S-sure.” Sergio stammered, and Manuel lit up. “I-it’s been a while, after all.”

“That’s great!” He cheered, but then caught himself, and blushed, laughing nervously. “I-I mean, n-nice! That’s… real nice.” He smiled at Sergio warmly, and kissed him again. “I missed you, Serging. I’m really happy for you.”

“I… missed you too.”

Backdoors. Backdoors needed keys.

“I love you.”

Keys, keys—the key to everything was lying, and Sergio was sure by now he’d mastered the art of it.

“I love you too.”

* * *

The Golden Boy watched them leave, and huffed slightly to himself.

“Section 1.1.” He muttered to himself, “Mister Quezon relinquishes the right to Mister Roxas to monopolise Mister Osmeña’s time.”

He shook his head, turning around to see his father frowning at him, and Manuel gave him a lopsided grin.

“C’mon, Itay. Lunch is on me.” He said, and Mabini crossed his arms.

“Nonong, we need to talk.”

“Itay—”

“To my office, now.”

* * *

“ _And this is making you upset, Pole, because?_ ”

Apolinario Aguinaldo-Mabini loved his husband, truly, but there were some times where he wished he could throw something at his husband’s handsome, charming dimples.

Like now, for instance, as father and son looked into a propped iPad to video chat with Senator Emilio Aguinaldo-Mabini on his lunch break.

“How can you be so nonchalant about all this?” Mabini snapped, pulling Manuel down by his collar to show his husband the hickey, “Nonong showed up to his moot court hearing with _his shirt open,_ ”

“Itay, it’s not that big a deal—”

“And with _this_ out on display! Where did he pick this up? It certainly wasn’t from me!”

Aguinaldo grinned slightly. “ _So you’re saying he got it from me. Pole, how very forward of you._ ”

Mabini glowered at his husband through the screen. “You’re not being very funny.”

“ _Ew,_ dads,” Manuel began, but Mabini shook him.

“His conduct is worrying me, Miong! A respectable lawyer doesn’t act like this!”

“ _Well, I think he’s just letting loose._ ” Aguinaldo smile at Manuel kindly through the feed, and the young man lit up.

“ _Thank you!_ ” He huffed exasperatedly, pulling free of his other father’s grip. “See, Itay, it’s okay!”

“What do you _mean_ it’s okay, you’d been flirting uncomfortably rudely with Mister Osmeña, disappearing for hours on end, and now you have _this?_ ” He snapped, and Aguinaldo lit up.

“ _Oh, is that what this is?_ ” He asked. “ _Bunso, do you have a lover?_ ”

At that, Manuel paused. Mabini gaped at him, and Aguinaldo lit up.

“ _Bunso!_ ” He cheered, “ _Finally, I’d been waiting for this!_ ”

“You’ve been waiting for this?” Mabini snapped, and Aguinaldo laughed fondly.

“ _Tell me, tell me!_ ” He said cheerfully, “ _You can leave your Itay out of this._ ”

“He will _not!_ ” Mabini protested, and looked at Manuel with a frown. “Well, who is it?”

“Um,” Manuel managed, and he couldn’t meet his parents’ gazes. Mabini’s expression fell into one of shock, and he squeezed Manuel’s wrist.

“Is it Mister Osmeña?” He asked, and Aguinaldo looked surprised.

“ _Oh, isn’t that his rival?_ ”

“G-guys,” Manuel finally had the decency to turn pink. “No. I don’t have a boyfriend.” He said firmly, shaking his head, and his parents blinked at him. “I’ve had casual flings and stuff—you two know that—but nothing serious. Sergi—um, Mister Osmeña, we’re just rivals, that’s it.”

Mabini and Aguinaldo shared skeptical looks, and Manuel sighed exasperatedly.

“I _swear._ ” He said, “Under oath, even.”

“Just the truth, and nothing but?” Mabini raised an eyebrow at him, and Manuel laughed bitterly.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Besides, Serging has a boyfriend.”

“ _Like that’s stopped an Aguinaldo-Mabini before._ ” Aguinaldo smirked, and Mabini flushed.

“Selong and I were long separated when you—”

“ _Anyway, anak, just be careful._ ” Aguinaldo nodded sagely. “ _Settle down with someone nice someday._ ”

“Yes, Tay.” Manuel sighed, and Mabini shot Aguinaldo a dirty look.

“We’re talking later.” He said to his husband, and the man laughed.

“ _I don’t doubt it, Pole._ ”

“ _Dads._ ” Manuel deadpanned, but his voice held little venom. “PDA. Not the best thing to be showing in front of your _bunso._ ”

“Oh, _now_ you’re playing the bunso card.” Mabini rolled his eyes. Aguinaldo laughed good-naturedly, and gave his husband and son an affectionate wave.

“ _That’s my Nonong._ ” He said warmly. “ _I’ll see you later, you two._ ”

“See you.” Manuel gave him a mock salute as Mabini simply nodded, before cutting the call. The younger man sighed, and looked at his father. “C’mon, I’ll beat you to it—lunch is on me.”

“Good boy.” Mabini chuckled fondly. “And you can explain the absence of a certain testimony during your moot court hearing.”

Manuel blushed, and the older man gave him a knowing grin.

“I set up that trial myself, Nonong. I know its ins and outs.”

The younger man sighed, and conceded.

“Fine. You win.” He huffed, “The usual, then?”

“But of course.” Mabini nodded once, and chuckled as his son petulantly began to push his chair along. “Wonderful food, wonderful conversation.”

“What part of roasting is _wonderful,_ ” Manuel muttered, and Mabini tutted.

“The part where Mister Osmeña roasts you, as far as I know.” He replied, and Manuel spluttered. The man laughed softly to himself as they made their way out of his office, but of course he wasn’t without worry—

Playing with feelings was a deadly, painful gambit.

He hoped whatever it was his son and that Sergio Osmeña man had together, in the end, wouldn’t hurt, and that all this would end either as happily as he wished it could be, or at least as cleanly as possible.

Well, no time like the present, he thought. The bridge will just have to burn when they got there.

* * *

There were times when Sergio thought that maybe his decisions weren’t always worth it to follow through, but when he sat up in his bed, and looked out the window at the sun set visible between slightly ratty curtains, only a single thought came to mind.

“ _Yeah, fucking Nonong is totally worth it._ ”

Not that he had anything against his other Manuel, no—he was kind, and sweet. Affectionate, and he always gave Sergio what he wanted, but.

But.

Having grown up all his life fighting for everything, just _taking_ didn’t feel right.

 _Unsatisfactory,_ almost.

“Mm? Serging?”

“I have class in about an hour.” Sergio replied, leaning down to kiss him on the temple.

“Truly no rest for the wicked.” Manuel laughed softly, and Sergio stopped.

The wicked, he’d said.

“Y-yeah.” He nodded, and got up. “I… gotta go.”

“I’ll leave your keys at the usual spot.”

“Thanks.”

It wasn’t that sex with his boyfriend wasn’t satisfying—there was still the climax, the feelings— _somewhat—_ and all, but there was… _something different_ about sleeping with his Nonong.

Something Manuel Roxas couldn’t give him.

The lesser Manuel, as his traitorous, traitorous little brain began to call him.

He hurried out of his apartment with his things, and made it to his class with Attorney Mabini in record time. There weren’t many people there yet—he’d made it there fifteen minutes too early—but sure enough, Manuel Quezon was already there, always the first person to show up to his father’s class.

Sergio tried to stay as invisible as possible as he slid into the room, staying close to the wall while other students filed in. He wasn’t discrete enough, though, he realised, when he realised Mabini was watching him over the file he was pretending to read, his eyes the only thing visible as Sergio sat down at his usual spot.

He swallowed. Was he in trouble, somehow?

Much to his relief, Mabini eventually looked away, back down at his paper, and Sergio thought it was over—

When the Golden Boy himself sat down in front of him, grinning that same charming grin that got him into this mess in the first place.

Not that it _was_ messy, mind—he was being _careful,_ an important skill to be having when you were handling illicit affairs with your law school rival behind your devoted, loving boyfriend’s back.

“Serging.” He said smoothly, and Sergio glowered up at him.

“We’re in class.”

“It’s not like people can hear us.” Manuel winked. “Also, it’s technically not class time yet.”

Sergio shook his head, and scoffed.

“What do you want?” He asked, and chuckling, Manuel tapped his nose.

“Ilong.”

Sergio blinked at him, and the man shook his head.

“Listen, so my dad talked to me earlier this lunch.”

At that, Sergio looked at him, eyes wide. Manuel met his gaze, and his grin widened.

“He knows about the testimony.” He said, and Sergio gasped, rearing back, but Manuel’s hand darted forward to squeeze his wrist. “Hey, relax. You’re okay, I said it was my idea—which, to be frank, is the truth.”

Sergio relaxed slightly, frowning. “What did he say?”

“Well? I got a pretty nasty scolding, heh.” Manuel shrugged, and Sergio gaped at him. “Don’t worry about it—happens all the time.”

“No, I refuse to sit idly while your family falls apart,” Sergio blurted out, and Manuel blinked at him. “I—” Sergio had half the mind to blush. “I… I know what it’s like. I don’t want the same on other people. Not—not even you.”

Manuel blinked at him for a long moment, and smiled softly, squeezing his wrist gently.

“That’s not it.” He said, and Sergio blinked at him. “After that, he said we did a wonderful job regardless. It wasn’t all about winning the moot court trial that was for our midterm, it was how we performed.”

Sergio deflated at that slightly, and laughed weakly into his hand. “You can’t win everything, Nonong.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Manuel’s smile was soft, and Sergio blinked at him.

“Nonong?” He asked, and the other man shook his head.

“Itay asked us to represent the school in at Boston.” He continued, and Sergio’s eyes widened. “You know it right—the FDI Moot—”

“ _Yes._ ” Sergio gasped. “You can’t—you can’t be _serious._ ”

“I totally am.” Manuel grinned at him, and Sergio couldn’t believe he was hearing.

All his life, he strove to prove himself—he fought to carve his own name out in history, and now, this.

This opportunity of a lifetime.

“You wanna go?” He asked, and Sergio would’ve felt embarrassed about how fast he answered—

“Yes, oh absolutely, yes.”

Manuel’s smile widened, and he offered his hand for Sergio to shake.

“It’s a deal, Mister Osmeña.”

“A deal, Mister Quezon.” He nodded, and this time, it felt like making a deal with an angel sent from above.

* * *

Well, _heavenly_ wasn’t exactly the word Sergio would use to describe Manuel, _especially_ when they were having sex, but right now, all he could focus on was the feel of his cock inside him, throbbing hot and heavy with want and heat.

There was a faint haze of alcohol around his mind, around Manuel’s mind, but neither man really minded it. Neither were sober enough to criticize the other for their clumsy, inept fingers, desperate, clingy breaths and and touches meant very little to a pair of bodies poised to connect intimately, breathing fire and desire into every gasp of each other’s names against each other’s lips.

They went out to dinner with Attorney Mabini—Manuel’s brothers were both busy (Julian’s gala night, Gregorio’s endorsement product launch party), and only the other person in the family, Senator Emilio Aguinaldo-Mabini, had joined them for dinner.

Sergio had felt out of place back then, but after a few glasses of beer, he found himself relaxing into Manuel’s personal space as the husbands talked to each other about something or the other, Sergio didn’t know.

All he could concentrate on was how casually Manuel played with the hem of his suit jacket, how _nice_ he still smelled, his expensive perfume right up next to him as they sat shoulder to shoulder in that quaint little family restaurant.

For once, Sergio realised, they weren’t angry at each other when they fucked.

“Oh, that’s right.” Aguinaldo had said, putting down his glass of whiskey. “Isn’t _Square Off_ opening debate team applications? Why don’t you two join?”

“I’m sure Goyong or Julian knows someone,” Mabini replied, and looked at his son and Sergio with a kind smile. “Well?”

“I’m game if my partner is.” Manuel said, and Sergio blinked at him. “Well, Serging?”

Sergio didn’t even bother to scold him for using the nickname—and _in front of his parents, even._

“Always.” He nodded, and Manuel’s smile—oh, he had to admit—was beautiful.

Always, he said, after Manuel asked him if he could take him home.

Always, he said, against Manuel’s lips as they made out in front of his apartment door.

Always, he said, as Manuel asked him if he wanted it, fingers buried inside him, the scent of sex and alcohol cloying his mind in sweet, sweet confusion as pleasure, only pleasure coursed through him.

“Turn around,” Manuel said roughly, and Sergio let out a small whine when he pulled out. That earned him a rough laugh, but gentle hands turned him over onto his hands and knees on his bed, running up sensually his body, tracing a slow burning line up the skin of his torso, sliding up to slip his fingers into Sergio’s mouth. Manuel kissed the sensitive spot behind Sergio’s ear, earning him a shiver before he slid inside him again, tearing out a gasp from the other man’s throat.

“N-Nonong!”

Oh, he felt even _deeper_ like this.

“That feel good for you?” Manuel panted, his voice sounding _wrecked,_ and the sound of it made Sergio’s cock twitch in interest.

“Y-yes, do-do it again—”

“Sure _thing—_ ” Manuel’s voice broke off into a groan as he slid out with a wet sound, before thrusting back into him. “ _Fuck._ ”

“A-ah, please,” Sergio stuttered, and then it took all he had to stay still and hold on as Manuel began to piston in and out of him, rough and heated as always, and for a moment, Sergio’s mind short circuited—

Manuel Roxas _who?_

Manuel’s hand darted down to wrap around Sergio’s cock, and it didn’t take much more than a few pumps to push him to his orgasm, and he could feel Manuel follow soon after, the other man burying himself deep into Sergio before the both of them collapsed onto his bed.

They spent a long moment lying there, quiet, basking in the afterglow, before Sergio finally spoke.

“Shit, I’m glad laundry day is the day after tomorrow.”

Manuel burst out laughing at that, and he got up, his laughter dissolving into a fond sigh.

“I still have to go home.” He said, and Sergio moved to reply—

_“You don’t have to rush, you can just stay here.”_

But he stopped himself.

No, that was beyond the Arrangement, and none of Sergio’s business. No one should ever do more than what their contract stipulates, least of all if the contract was something like Sergio and Manuel’s Agreement.

“Take care.” Sergio said instead, and Manuel smirked at him charmingly over his shoulder.

“Always.” He replied, and rolled out of bed. “Do you mind if I take a shower or something?”

“You could leave a toothbrush and I wouldn’t care.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, and Manuel stopped, blinking at him in mild surprise. “I, um…”

“That would be in violation of Section 1.” He winked at him, and Sergio took a moment to think about what he said, before spluttering. “But thanks for the concern. I’ll go take a shower now.”

Sergio watched him saunter into the bathroom, and sighed, lying back in his bed with a groan. He looked up at the caking plaster of his apartment ceiling, frowning thoughtfully.

_Section 1. Mister Osmeña’s boyfriend, Manuel Roxas, must never learn anything about this. Violation of this section will result in immediate termination of the contract, and the subsequent Arrangement._

Was there a backdoor to that, he wondered. A way out of this _mess_ he inevitably found himself in.

Feelings? Were these feelings?

At the back of his mind, he wedged his foot into the closing backdoor, and scoffed.

God, he hoped not—

No, not hope.

There _weren’t,_ and that was final.

**Author's Note:**

> please watch venom thank u


End file.
